


Family

by darkandstormyslash



Series: Gray and Gold [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Very lightly implied childhood sexual abuse, discussions of 1920s Chicago gangland, two guys being cute on a bed together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 16:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13391673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: Set after season 4: Michael comes back to England for Polly's wedding to Aberama Gray. Chapter 1 is general fic dealing with the relationships between the characters and is suitable for anyone to read. Chapter 2 is just Bonnie/Michael smut.





	1. Chapter 1

Michael regrets wearing his white suit as soon as he steps off the boat. England is dirtier than he remembered, and every grey particle of dust in Birmingham seems to stick to it instantly. Polly is waiting for him alone once he gets through the passport check, which means his smile can come naturally as she wraps her arm around him. He’d forgotten how comforting her smell was, a scent which brings back all the Old World memories and a bit of the Old World fear as well.

“Michael! Oh it’s good to see you, we were so worried you’d not make it. How was your trip? Did you get the message from Tommy about the new shipment?”

Just hearing her voice makes him regret coming. Not because he doesn’t want to see her, he does very desperately, but because he doesn’t want to have to leave again. He’s here for his mother’s wedding, and as soon as it’s finished Michael knows he’ll be shipped back off still in disgrace. He nods in answer to her questions, “I’m tired mum, yeah I got the message before I left. My boys will sort it out while I'm here.”

“Your boys…” She gives him a fond smile, stepping back and looking him up and down. “You look good. How is it – in Chicago?”

He nods again, trying to work out what to tell her. He’s had a whole journey back to prepare but somehow the sentences he carefully worked out in his head are gone. “Busy. Loud. Violent.”

“A bit like here then!” Polly laughs and links an arm into his, heading to where the driver is waiting patiently.

“Yes, just like here.” He lies.

The driver doesn’t take them home, instead they go straight to the hotel and Michael looks around inside with some unease, “I thought the wedding was next week?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Polly fusses with his case and fiddles with the room keys, “But you might as well stay here in the hotel until the day. It’ll be easier to organise.”

“So I’m not going home…” Michael says slowly. “Does he even want to see me?”

“Of course Aberama wants to see you! He needs your blessing, after all.” Polly looks at him fondly, her eyes shining. She looks so happy that Michael doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t talking about Aberama. Aberama wants to see him, Tommy doesn’t.

“Will I have to change my name?” He asks instead, trying to keep his voice light while the bitterness seethes in the back of his mind. One bad decision, made at a vulnerable moment with a gun against his head and bullets in his body, and Tommy has dismissed him completely, “I’ve only just got used to Michael Gray, and it’ll confuse everyone in Chicago if I come back as Michael Gold.”

Polly unlocks the door and shows him into a room smaller than any hotel he’s ever stayed at in Chicago, “There we go, lovely and spacious. Of course you don’t have to change your name! Not unless you want to. I don’t think Aberama would expect it.”

Michael Gold or Michael Gray, it doesn’t matter. Either way, he’ll never be Michael Shelby.

Polly fusses about the room a bit, and then leaves with a “Well you freshen up, after that long journey. I’ll see you down for dinner.” Michael takes off his hat, placing it on the bed and then hurriedly picking it up and leaving it on top of the wardrobe. The room is nice enough, but small and understated. By now he’s more used to big and overstated.

He can tell Polly is pleased to see him, but he can also tell she’s nervous to have him back. Maybe it’s just wedding nerves, he tells himself, the uncertainty that comes before a woman signs her life away for better or for worse. He wonders who suggested putting him up in the hotel; whether it was Polly’s pragmatic idea to forestall any arguement, or whether Tommy specifically requested that Michael be hidden away.

“Aberama Gold…” he murmurs at the washstand, “Do you have any idea what kind of family you’re marrying into?”

* * *

They all have dinner that evening together; Polly and Aberama sitting opposite each other and acting like giggling children, while Bonnie sits across from Michael, shoveling down roast ham like he’s trying to finish up a whole pig. Aberama looks the same as Michael remembers but Bonnie has changed; bulked up to something stronger, leaner and somehow taller. A decent diet and good living conditions has rounded out all the edges that haven’t been converted into muscle; he looks less like a ragged little fairground brawler and more like a proper fighter.

By now, of course, he probably is.

“So Michael,” Aberama says, with a fond smile at Polly, “As you’re technically the man of the house, may I ask you for your blessing to take this woman’s hand in marriage?”

Michael hesitates for just a moment, looking steadily at Aberama across the table, just long enough to watch his mouth waver and the uncertainty creep into his eyes, “Are you sure you can keep her in the manner to which she’s become accustomed?”

Aberama’s eyes are mischief, “I think I can do a lot better than that.”

For the first time since he heard about their engagement, Michael suddenly finds he actually wants the wedding to happen. He wants Tommy to have a rival for Polly’s affections, and for Polly to have an alternative life to escape to. He finds he likes the idea of Tommy having to put some effort into retaining Polly’s loyalty and time, rather than just expecting her to fall back into line. “Then you have my blessing.”

Polly gives a cheer, and raises her glass, “To family!”

“Family.” Michael sips cautiously at the beer in front of him, and then gives a satisfied little groan, “Oh this tastes good. I’ve missed this.”

“Do they not have beer in Chicago?” Bonnie asks, briefly pausing in his ham-demolition.

“They don’t have any alcohol except what we bring in.” Michael lowers his voice almost out of habit. “And when they get it, they water it down and put a lot of shit into it and pretend its classy.”

Bonnie gives him a grin, “You look good. I like the suit.”

It’s not his white one, which Michael doesn’t think he'll wear again in Birmingham, but a caramel brown with a checkered waistcoat and a matching bow-tie. It was expensive, he only packed expensive things purely to prove that he’s grown successful, rich and influential during his banishment. He wants to show that he can make it on his own if he has to, that he can take the decisions and the business deals that make him the money.

Except of course the person he most wants to show off to isn’t here.

“Everyone in Chicago wears suits.” He responds nonchalantly. He can’t show off to Tommy, but he can at least play the Big Man From America in front of Bonnie, who seems eager to hear about it. “It’s mad there though; you think there are gangs here, over there it’s a civil war. The city’s all mapped out, there are parts of it I can’t even walk in, each pub and club has an allegiance and when things kick off…” he snaps his fingers and shakes his head. “They’ve all got guns. All of them. You can buy them on any street corner, with as much ammunition as you like. Even the police all belong to different gangs.”

“I’m in the semi-finals.” Bonnie says hopefully, “Regional championships. Never lost a match.”

“Never?”

Bonnie shrugs and looks down, “Except the ones I have to throw. But Mister Shelby wouldn’t make me throw the finals.”

_He would_ , Michael thinks, _if he had to, he would. He wouldn’t think twice about doing it, and you wouldn’t think twice about obeying him._

He doesn’t say anything though, just gives a weak smile and lets Bonnie chatter on about boxing. In a way it’s a relief to find that while they might be marrying Polly, the Golds haven’t been let in far enough to realise the truth about Tommy.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter with the sex! It does follow on from my previous Bonnie/Michael fic, "Gray and Gold" which describes Bonnie giving Michael a handjob while Michael's staying in the Gold encampment. However, other than being aware that they have a bit of a history, this is stand-alone.

Aberama and Polly retire to the bar when the meal is over. Michael claims tiredness and travel-sickness, slipping away out of the dining room and waiting at the base of the elevator until Bonnie joins him.

Bonnie bounces on his toes while they wait for the elevator, slipping a sideways glance at Michael, “Do you not take the stairs?”

Michael hadn’t even thought about it. “Usually I take the elevator.”

“Right.”

They don’t speak, but the air is crackling with the words they don’t say as the elevator slowly trundles them up three flights. Bonnie’s body is still bouncing, the boy is full of energy wound up like a spring desperate for release. Michael pulls out the key and lets Bonnie into the hotel room, sitting down on the edge of the bed as Bonnie pokes through his new wardrobe and admires his case.

“Like them?”

Bonnie nods, “Do they have boxing in America?”

“Oh yes.”

“Maybe I should come over then?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, “Maybe you should. Work for me instead of Tommy Shelby.” The name comes out bitter and he can’t help it. He knows Bonnie’s noticed, but Bonnie never feels the need to pry into areas he’s clearly not welcome.

“Did you – “ Bonnie hesitates, bounces on his feet a little more, then crouches in front of him. “Did you see any other men in America?”

Bonnie won’t meet his eyes and Michael feels a slow burning powerful feeling raising up inside him as he looks at the boy crouched by his feet. This, he knows, is a feeling he only ever gets in England. In America he’s a small foreign fish in a big terrifying bowl, and while he can hold his place he’s finding it difficult to wield significant power in his own right. He supplies alcohol, that’s all, he doesn’t own any bars or fight any battles. Here the Shelbys rule, and Michael desperately wants some of that for himself. With Bonnie in front of him he feels he has a little bit of it all for himself.

“No.” He answers, and then just to make it clear, “It’s wouldn’t really have been possible.”

“Ah.”

Michael reaches a hand across, placing it on the side of Bonnie’s head and feeling Bonnie lean into it slightly, “You?”

The head shakes vigorously against his hand, “I’ve been too busy training.”

Michael tugs at the dark black strands a little, “Shouldn’t you be busy now?”

Bonnie’s eyes look up, dark in a pale face, “Do you want me to be busy now?”

After that Bonnie can’t get his suit open quickly enough, and two sets of fingers fumble with buttons before Michael tugs his trousers down just far enough to get his cock out and then Bonnie’s face is _there_ right on him, tight wet heat enveloping his cock and making him gasp up at the ceiling. Bonnie clearly wasn’t lying about his lack of experience, his mouth and tongue are all over the place and Michael gives the occasional whimper as teeth knock clumsily into the side of his cock. What Bonnie does have though, and what no little floozy slapper in Chicago has, is the energy and enthusiasm that make the heat rise up Michael’s body and rush down straight into his cock. He keeps a hand on Bonnie’s hair, tugging it and stroking it until he finally pulls it right away, releasing his cock from the wet space.

“S-stop, I’ll … fuck Bonnie…”

Bonnie’s lips are wet and dark, “Don’t you want to?”

“Y-yes, not yet, get your clothes off. Get on the bed.”

Bonnie is quick to obey, stripping down to nothing almost obscenely fast while Michael undoes his shoes and takes off the rest of his suit, conscientiously hanging the shirt and jacket up in the wardrobe. Bonnie’s on the bed by the time he finishes, spread out pale and naked, his cock jutting upwards from his body. No sex while fighting, Michael shakes his head and wonders how Bonnie even survives.

He kneels on the bed and takes Bonnie’s head in his hands again. Bonnie surges forward and clamps his mouth back into Michael’s cock, rolling over so that his hands can reach behind and grab Michael’s arse, his own looking beautiful and pale against the dark bedsheets. Michael looks at it as Bonnie sucks him and wonders whether he could actually fuck Bonnie Gold. Would he want to? The muscles tense and tighten in Bonnie’s shoulders as he sucks, and Michael tugs at his hair again, grinning at the disappointed noise Bonnie makes when the cock slides out of his mouth. “U-Up, there we go. You – you touch them. Both of them. Together.”

Michael still does not feel he can touch a cock. He’s not sure he ever will, just the thought of it makes him feel sick, a rising shuddering tide that breaks and gasps as Bonnie’s hand gently slips around the back of his neck, and Bonnie kisses delicately at his eyelids.

“Michael?”

“Yeah … just …” he opens his eyes and focuses on Bonnie’s dark ones. He pulls Bonnie close, the both of them kneeling up on the bed, pressed together with arms wrapped around each other, and then Bonnie slips a hand down between them and Michael sees sparks.

Bonnie’s hand keeps moving, rubbing the two of them together in a hot slippery mess, slick with sweat and pre-cum. It’s Bonnie who comes first, biting down onto Michael’s shoulder with a whimpering little cry, but he keeps his hand going until Michael finishes, which isn’t long after as the added slick of Bonnie’s cum makes everything suddenly even better. Michael grabs Bonnie’s head and presses it back into his shoulder with a groan, gasping as it washes over him, and then collapsing sideways down onto the bed. He yanks Bonnie down along with him and gives a small grin at the little yelp Bonnie makes as he overbalances.

They lay together for a while and Michael can feel a wonderful relaxing glow spreading out from his body. He’s successful and rich, his family is expanding in a new direction, and Bonnie Gold sucks cock like a champion. His life has good things in it, he has to remember that. He’s not just another one of Tommy Shelby’s failures.

“How long are you here for?” Bonnie asks, his voice still a little breathless. Michael reaches out to wrap an arm around him, pulling him close and feeling Bonnie’s legs tangle up with his, all sticky and wet at the top.

“A week and a half. Just for the wedding, really.” Tommy hadn’t wanted him back any longer.

“Oh.” Bonnie looks a little sad, “You’ll miss the championship finals.”

Michael’s hand reaches up to stroke at Bonnie’s hair, “Well if it’s the finals maybe I’ll ask Polly if I can stay a bit longer.”

“You’ll ask Polly?” Bonnie looks up at him quizzically. “What about Mister Shelby?”

The hand in Bonnie’s hair tightens, and for a moment Bonnie thinks Michael almost looks a little dangerous, “Well what about Mister Shelby? This isn’t about the Shelby family, Bonnie. This is about _my_ family.”


End file.
